


mac and dennis sext

by billbert



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, Sexting, chapter 2 will involve the real deal, just really cringe sexting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22974835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billbert/pseuds/billbert
Summary: what it says on the tin.mac and dennis somehow start sexting.
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Comments: 25
Kudos: 102





	mac and dennis sext

Mac wasn't drunk. A little buzzed, sure. But drunk? Not in the slightest. There was no excuse for what he'd just carried out, but when it was all said and done, he'd probably end up blaming it on the alcohol anyway. That's just the sort of pussy he was. He was sprawled out on his bed, breath heavy with anxiety, face hot with embarrassment. This was... _regrettable._

He turned his phone back on. He still had a chance to delete the message, but somehow he couldn't get himself to go through with it. He waited with bated breath until the little 'seen' appeared under his blue text bubble. _Shit._ Things had just gotten real, and his stomach churned. He felt weightless and nauseous, like he'd just dropped down an elevator shaft.

  
  
It wasn't _that_ bad, right? It wasn't overtly sexual, though that was certainly how Mac had intended it to be read. Dennis would definitely read between the lines and call him out, but the damage had already been done. Mac flopped over, burying his face in his pillow as though that would save him for the anticipated berating. 

Stupid stupid stupid.

His phone buzzed, and he immediately scrambled into a sitting position, eyes wide as he checked the screen. This could go one of two ways. Actually, knowing Dennis, it could go one of a thousand ways. Despite knowing each other for well over a decade, Mac found he couldn't predict where this crazy train was heading. His heart pounded in his chest as though desperate to break through his ribs.

  
  
So cold. Mac's face fell and he turned off his phone. He should've known there was no other response he could've predicted or expected. Surely Dennis would show Dee the message and laugh and laugh and laugh and-

There was the buzz again. He'd actually followed it up? Though he knew how stupid it was to get his hopes up, Mac couldn't help it. There was that familiar feeling, the butterflies, always with the stupid butterflies - he was helpless, he was drowning, he was short of breath and his palms were sweaty. 

He checked the message.

  
  
A chance - an actual _chance._ Was Dennis drunk? Mac couldn't tell, but judging by the correct capitalization and syntax, probably not. He was smiling like a little kid on Christmas, and since he was all alone, he didn't have to hide it. He kicked his feet in excitement, glad to have been given an opportunity, even if he knew it might result in ridicule.

He was typing as quickly as possible, ready to stroke his best friend's ego. Dennis surely wouldn't object to that, though he might tease him a bit. Mac didn't mind being teased. In fact, he didn't mind much of anything, as long as it was Dennis. His mind spun trying to think of things to mention, only to find that there were hundreds. He sorted through them as best as he could before picking out the winners that'd go into his decidedly risky text.

  
  
Alright, so it wasn't _that_ risky. He'd decided not to get too specific, because that'd only give Dennis more ammo and leverage. Best to keep it simple and test the waters a little before -

Oh shit, a reply. That was fast - usually, Dennis blew him off for hours on end, so such a fast response was...well, it was _exciting_ to know that his best friend was actually paying him some attention for once. 

Ah, there he went. Dennis was fishing for compliments as usual, and Mac was ready to give in. He'd never understand why someone like Dennis had to resort to attention-seeking, seeing as he was so attention-grabbing as is. But Mac was nothing if not enamored, and he was happy to indulge Dennis to the fullest.

His fingers flew over the phone's tiny keyboard, autocorrect saving him from embarrassment a couple of times. His cheeks were warming up more and more as the familiar face grew into focus in his mind's eye. There were so many things he could mention, so many goddamn things -

  
  
It was weak, it was unspecific, it was revealing, it was vulnerable. Mac had never been this upfront before, and it was giving him a rush. Fuck drugs, texting Dennis was making him foggier than poppers ever could. He shut his eyes in shame for a moment, wondering if this had been a bad idea. It was, but he'd gone too far. 

Might as well go all the way.

  
  
He sighed in defeat, turning his phone off. Dennis likely wouldn't respond to such blatant affection, he never did. Mac had been trying this shit for years, albeit a little more subtly, and Dennis never, _ever_ went further than this. He'd take the compliment and run, afraid of confronting Mac's feelings. It was painful, but it was routine. Still, this had gone a little further than usual, and tomorrow might be rife with laughter, fingers pointed at him as the phone was passed around.

He was used to it.

What he wasn't used to was the next buzz of the phone. _Fuck._ He'd actually gotten a little further? There was a weird tension in the room, despite the fact that Mac was completely alone. Dennis wasn't even home, but it felt like-

Fuck.

  
  
Mac's heart was working too hard, beating too fast, making him lightheaded. This was a one in a million chance, and _damn_ if he wasn't going to take it. He almost wanted to cry, he almost wanted to start jacking off, but he did neither and obeyed Dennis as always. He didn't even object to being called gay. 

He knew that Dennis knew. He'd always known. And in this situation, it was the least of his worries. He'd get upset about it later, deny everything, but in this safe place, these texts - he could be honest for once.

  
  
Should he go all the way? He wasn't entirely sure. Even this was making him dizzy and excited and stressed out and desperate. Picturing what he'd wanna do to Dennis - that was a little too much. He shut his eyes, willing the images away, but he couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

Fuck it all.

  
  
There was no taking that one back, that was for sure. Instantly, Mac tensed up with embarrassment, wanting to smash his phone and not ever return to this situation again. But the message had already been read and there wasn't much he could do about it. All he could do was wait like a dumb high schooler, eyes wide and breathing labored with arousal and panic.

  
  
Mac couldn't tell if he was being made fun of or not. There wasn't much else he could say, and honestly, he was pretty close to just turning his phone off and leaving the apartment to get trashed. 

But still, that coy little _I'd like to see you try_ was getting to him, and he was ashamed to find that he was already hard. How desperate could a guy get? He didn't want to respond, didn't want to make himself more vulnerable than he already had. Dennis had enough ammo against him for the next ten years, and the ones that came after that, fuck - he had enough material to laugh at him until they were in the old folk's home.

The phone buzzed again, but instead of a gray bubble, an image popped up into the chat. Mac's eyes widened at the sight. Dennis _never_ sent pictures unless it was to ask Mac about a perceived imperfection.

But this picture wasn't just any ordinary selfie. Not only was Dennis shirtless, but he was looking into the camera with a very coy expression, one Mac knew very well. That was his "capture the prey" face. After years of wishing to be the prey, it seemed as though his dream had come true. He was sweating, palms all moist and unable to grip the phone properly. Shit. Shit. _Shit._

  
  
It was hard in more ways than one, Mac thought to himself as he shifted uncomfortably, boner pressing against his jeans. This wasn't good, wasn't good at all. But despite his brain telling him to cut it off, to end it before it got worse, he couldn't. He'd already admitted to it, there was no turning back. Might as well go all the way with it.

  
  
The messages popped up before Mac had time to mentally prepare himself for them. There was an insult in there, sure, but all Mac could focus on was the fact that Dennis had practically offered to _help_. For real, _was he drunk?_ He couldn't be, not with the way he was typing. Mac would've recognized the typing style of a drunk Dennis, and this certainly wasn't it. He was sober and he was playing along and Mac was beyond confused.

He stared at the picture, stared at the messages, mouth hanging open like a stupid, stupid fish. Maybe he'd finally cracked, because he couldn't react at all. He tried to type a response with shaky hands, but it was taking forever, and he couldn't stand the thought of Dennis waiting. He forced himself to go faster, to ignore the thoughts, to ignore his erection, to ignore everything but Dennis, as per usual.

  
  
He couldn't say much more. Images rushed into his brain like passengers on a cramped train and he shut his eyes for a moment, trying to force them out. But he _wanted_ to think about it, wanted to imagine the possibilities, the implications - he was so goddamn _hopeful_ that it made him feel stupid.

The phone buzzed all too soon, before he even had time to collect himself. He panted desperately, not caring how idiotic it must've sounded. Beyond whipped, he opened messenger with a racing heart, thoughts bouncing around inside his head like pachinko balls.

  
  
Mac couldn't hold back anymore. He palmed himself through his pants, picturing it. He shut his eyes for a brief moment, the image painted on the insides of his eyelids. Running a hand through Dennis' wavy hair, those cold blue eyes looking up at him with a combination of disdain and lust, the way he'd act so coy, like he didn't even want to be there - Mac couldn't handle it.

Those pink lips parting to take his cock - and the way he'd _struggle_ , the way he'd have to try so _hard_ , putting on a show - Mac's breathing was labored as he unzipped his jeans, relieving the pressure a little bit. He wanted to touch him, wanted him here right now, right in front of him, kneeling down, submitting to him for once in his goddamn life.

  
  
Mac finally freed his cock from its confines, and slowly began to stroke himself to the thought of Dennis. It wasn't the first time, maybe the thousandth. But it felt new and it felt _hopeful_ , not gross and guilty like it usually did. He knew he didn't have a chance with Dennis, but just to have him play along was enough, to fake like he was into it.

Mac stared at the messages, holding his phone shakily in his free hand. He watched the three little dots bounce around, anticipating Dennis' next message. God, he was whipped. He shut his eyes for a moment, willing Dennis to text just a bit faster.

  
  
Mac couldn't believe that Dennis had just called him cute. He shut his eyes and sighed, taking his hand off his dick so he could reply properly. There was so much that he wanted to say, but he didn't want to cross any lines. Though the more he thought about it, he'd pretty much reached the point of no return. Might as well go in, guns blazing.

  
  
It was the first time Mac had said this stuff so directly, and of course he was nervous as fuck. His palms were so sweaty that he could barely hold onto his phone, could barely type with how shaky his hands were. The thought of Dennis getting off to this was too much to handle, though he knew that part was probably just in his imagination.

Still, it didn't matter. All that mattered were the mental images this conversation was conjuring - Dennis all pink and fucked out, begging for him, pale skin marked up with bruises- Why did Mac need it so badly? Why couldn't he ever fall for anyone else? Why was he trapped in this dead-end maze? 

  
  
_Fuck._ Mac was so close already, pumping his hand up and down as he imagined it, imagined Dennis actually _wanting him._ His motions were rough and uncoordinated, fueled by pure lust and nothing else. He could hear himself panting, though it seemed to come from a different world entirely. 

He didn't know if Dennis was just _saying that_ , but the implication of them getting off _together_ was just too good to be true. He couldn't hold back anymore, he needed to show Dennis just how frustrated this whole situation had made him. He didn't care if he got made fun of, he didn't care if it was over the line. He opened up the camera app and snapped a picture of his dick, sending it to Dennis before he could think it over.

Shit. Bad idea. Bad, bad, _horrible_ idea. But he had to run with it no matter the consequences. It was too late now.

  
  
Mac couldn't stifle the moan that those texts induced. This was too good to be true - he was sure that he'd wake up any second now with wet underwear and a guilty conscience. But he pinched himself and this was _reality._

He was almost there, so close, and Dennis wasn't making it any easier. He wanted this conversation to last forever, but it had a physical time limit and Mac was well aware of that as he continued to touch himself to the thought of Dennis.

  
  
Mac was so _stupid,_ but he didn't even care. This conversation would never be forgotten, even if Dennis never spoke of it again. Mac would remember and remember and remember forever. The thought of a desperate Dennis on his back, waiting for him - that was just _overwhelmingly_ hot.

  
  
_Jesus Christ._ Mac couldn't even type, free hand thumbing over the keyboard awkwardly, his garbled words saved by autocorrect. Just the _suggestion_ of Dennis wanting his touch was too much, and his brain was full of nothing but images of Dennis in compromising positions.

  
  
Mac fisted his cock, pumping up and down until he brought himself to orgasm, spilling himself all over his hand, thoughts of Dennis burned into the insides of his eyelids. He panted, flopping backward onto the mattress, still managing to hold onto his phone.

He wiped his hand on his jeans, trying to catch his breath. He couldn't. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to catch it after _this._

  
  
Mac grinned in spite of himself. He'd made Dennis Reynolds of all people cum to the thought of him. All his pipe dreams were coming true and even if they never mentioned this again, Mac could sleep soundly knowing Dennis was actually fucking _attracted_ to him.

Mac decided to stop holding anything back, for better or worse. He typed out a final message, wondering exactly how Dennis would reply.

  
  
It was risky. But his risk earlier had paid off, so why not play the lotto one more time? He was feeling lucky.

  
  
Mac smiled to himself, shutting off his phone. He couldn't wait until Dennis got home. It wouldn't be long now.

**Author's Note:**

> pls leave a comment if u enjoyed! <3


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